Love Story
by VixenoftheWords
Summary: A quick todomomo one shot inspires by Taylor Swifts song “Love Story”.


She'd barely turned eighteen when they first met- a chance meeting brought solely by meetings and internships neither of them wanted.

That morning had been a whirlwind of stress and constant moving, following hurriedly after her boss as he stormed angrily to shout at whoever he pleased, ignoring the pain shooting up her leg with every step she took in heels uncomfortably high.

By the time the meeting rolled around she was exhausted, feeling drained of everything but anxiety and pressure building between her shoulder blades.

She barely registered all the lifeless hands she shook, smile plastered on as she nodded with each introduction to a blurry face.

But then a hand took hers and she felt a spark of recognition flood her fingers, igniting her mind and bringing her out of the morning mess.

This warm and calloused hand felt so, so familiar.

She blinked, clearing her vision and she looked at the man she was shaking hands with.

And recognized him immediately.

She'd never met him before but she knew him. Knew his hand, knew this feeling in her chest, knew this moment. Like it had happened before so long ago that she'd forgotten, and she didn't think she could figure out what it was on her own.

But then onyx eyes met gray and blue and in an instant she was gone.

No longer was she in the cramped hallways of an office building, but she was in a ballroom, surrounded by music and people straight out of a Victorian museum.

On either side of her stood girls her age, with pink and brown hair being their only distinct features as their faces were almost in focus but not quite, like she was remembering something from her childhood but couldn't quite recall exact details.

She could taste wine on her lips, faint and bitter, and her flowing ball gown matched the remaining drops in her cup.

Looking around the vast sea of people was all fizzled faces, familiar yet not quite remembered. she felt relief seep over her shoulders as each person moved to the music, so nostalgic to her ears. She swayed along, smiling at the faint words of her friends, eyes still traveling the room.

There, like a dash of color amongst a sea of black and white- was a person in crisp definition.

He was here.

Clear as day standing across the room slightly elevated above the others as he sat on a windowsill. There was no mistaking him, his hair pulled back messily, white and red inter crossing in the tousled look. His eyes so piercing and sharp but capable of looking so endearing and caring, his telltale scar.

There was no pretending it wasn't him, what with her heart soaring as it did when it saw him.

His intimidating gaze swept over everyone and connected with hers- and immediately she knew him.

He slid with ease off his perch and made his way to her, swiftly passing through the increasingly out of focus crowd as she focused in on him.

His royal highness stopped in front of her, and bowed with a hand across his chest.

"Would you care to dance?"

"I've been told you arent much for dancing your highness." She said, mouth moving on it's own to say words already spoken so long ago.

"I'm not." He agreed, reaching out a hand for her to take if she so choosed. "But I'm told you are."

"And I'm willing to dance if it pleases you."

Her breath caught in her throat at his face so honest and open for someone she'd been told was colder then any frost.

she smiled, looking into his eyes as she Accepted his hand.

"How can one say no to that?"

The warmth of his hand as he held hers spread from her fingers to her cheeks, warming them as he gave her a small yet earnest smile that she knew only she ever saw. One that mostly lifted one corner of the mouth.

A mouth she had so often kissed.

She blinked and she was back in the hallway, staring at him looking almost exactly as he did back then, except his hair was cut different and his scar smaller and a different shape.

Her boss's voice was faint in her ears, continuing down the list of introductions in the exact spot he had been before she'd left.

"Ms. Yaoyorozu this is-"

"Shouto." The name drifted from her mouth easily, feeling sweet and comforting like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold winter's night.

But it was nothing to the swell of emotions she felt when he smiled, one corner going up slightly as his eyes softened.

"Momo."


End file.
